


Nothing That You Do

by Tita



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pitch Perfect AU, Sexual Tension, University AU, and a bunch of things basically, radio station working, well the plot basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tita/pseuds/Tita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wants to be in London making music, not at university wasting away, so when the perfect opportunity presents itself by the hand of Harry Styles and a bunch of singing young men, well, he's not about to say no. Things aren't always that easy though.<br/>Or a Pitch Perfect AU where Louis is Becca and movies are indie rock bands now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing That You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Well i want to say this was totally self indulgent, and it's far from what i've been writing with ephemeral and all but it's simple and fun and i hope you like it.  
> Thank you to Emmy and Sarah, my betas :)  
> Also you should really check out The Cab, they're truly great!

The transition from the airport to the campus is seamless, the beat running steady through Louis’ headphones as the nothing turns into suburbs and then into student dorms. People run from one place to the other, bags strewn across the street where friends are chatting excitedly. The streets are crowded, and his cab can barely maneuver, so he decides to just stop here and walk the rest, eyeing the crowded paths with a grimace and getting off the cab after paying quickly.

Most of his things have already been sent to his room, but Louis still removes one from the back of the cab, the heavily padded case heavy on his hands as he makes his way to the dorm he has yet to find directions for. A smiling girl promptly appears at his side when he is about to give up, her smile almost alarming. She proceeds to give him directions and Louis is on his way as fast as he can, weaving through a recently spilled mess rapidly.

The park is dotted with students lazing around as he goes through it, feeling sets of eyes roam around his face. He knows he may be slightly unusual, big headphones covering most but not all of his earrings, eyes rimmed with black and an artfully ripped shirt covering his torso, but he dislikes the scrutinizing, bows his head down and walks faster, hoping to get into the safety of his room soon.

Once he gets there, another boy is already there, laying out his stuff carefully and not sparing a glance as he makes it into the room.

“Hey, uhm, I’m Louis,” he says, manners not at all forgotten even when the guy just turns around and stares at him blankly. He smiles, but the effect is none.

Resigned, and a little bit creeped out, he drops what cannot even be called a conversation and starts unpacking his things, taking out his computer and sound equipment, careful as he sets them down on the desk.

Louis is barely starting up the program when he hears a knock on the door.

“Everybody better be decent, I’m coming in!” comes the voice of Troy, his father, who moments later walks into the room. His smile is almost insultingly bright, and Louis sighs before returning to his doings with the computer, not holding back the eyebrow raise.

It goes unnoticed as Troy walks around the room, taking in the still bare walls and eerily quiet roommate.

“Oh you must be Louis’ roommate, I’m his dad Troy,” his father introduces, addressing the still silent boy. “I give Biology lessons here.” he explains, but when he receives nothing, he gives up and turns to face Louis, face reflecting his thoughts and a "what’s wrong with him?" clearly written on his features.

“So when did you get here Louis?” he asks, returning the attention to the boy whose attention is still on his electronics. “And how?”

“I took a cab; didn’t want to interrupt you inspiring young minds and all that,” Louis replies, ignoring the way it feels harsh even in his mind. He figures Troy deserves at least a little roughing up before he even begins to attempt any type of relationship, so he doesn’t dwell on it much.

However, Troy ignores it with a small face and brightens up. “So have you been out yet? The time for introducing yourself is now, when all the students are eager and nervous,” he says enthusiasm alarming.

“I do not want to introduce myself,” Louis intervenes, voice tired from hundreds of time repeating the same concept. “I want to be in London and working in a studio, mixing tracks, not chemical formulas here in a stupid class!” He responds, facing his father who is as resigned as he wishes him not to be.

“Oh here you go again, you know Louis, this mixing thing is not a profession, it’s a hobby and adding a beat to a song is not a paying job,” Troy shoots back, tone authoritative as if he knows what he is going on about. (He doesn’t)

“That isn’t—" Louis tries, sighing and going at it again. “I want to make music, Troy.”

“You will, just after you get a degree, so that’s it Louis, I won’t hear another thing about it,” his father says, face serious as he stares Louis down.

“I’m going to go to sign up for something at the plaza, now,” chooses to announce his roommate, voice cutting through the tension.

“Yeah me too,” follows up Louis, resigned as he spares one last chance at his parent. He doesn’t have any particular interest in signing up for anything but some fresh air seems inviting now.

The plaza turns out to be swarmed with people, each standing next or behind a stand, chatting excitedly about whatever subject they’ve chosen to waste their time on for the rest of the year. Some, like chess, are empty, but others are quite crowded, people in line talking to each other while they wait.

Louis lets his eyes roam around the place, and they land on a booth that has headphones as an illustration, so he goes over there, secretly hoping it’s a music production related club, as lame as that may be. It has almost no one there, empty but for one guy with a gravity-defying pink quiff that stares at him curiously.

He quickly notices it’s an intern program for something and as he reads over the leaflet, another person comes up behind him, slightly grazing his shoulder as he gets in front.

“Hi,” the guy says, voice surprisingly low and wavering slightly, nerves palpable. “Is this where you’re supposed to sign up for like, the radio internship?” He asks and then Louis gets it. Radio.

An electric current runs through his mind when he thinks about it, getting to play his music and actually managing a radio station. It sounds incredibly good, and just the thing to get him through the terrible time that’s sure to come.

“It certainly is, young man,” quiffy guy says, leaning over the table in a way that’s as flirtatious as can be. “And we’d be honoured to have a fine specimen like you helping.” he adds, winking as he leans back. The gravelly voice owner in front of him giggles, giggles for God’s sake, and bends over to sign his name into the sheet.

When he’s done, he turns around and walks past Louis with an accomplished smile while the waiting boy takes a step forward. The previously flirty man stares at him up and down and gives him a look Louis is not bothered to decipher, crouching and grabbing the signup sheet instead.

It shows that the blushing youngster- Harry according to the paper- and he are the only ones so far, which Louis isn’t really conflicted about. He figures that the less there are, the higher his chances, since there is no way he can flirt his way into it, not with how he is being looked at. Louis sets the thing down and attempts a smile, but radio guy is having none of it.

It isn’t till he is several meters away that he realizes the guy probably thought he and the Harry boy were going to be alone and Louis just majorly cockblocked him. He chuckles at the thought, irrationally pleased.

***

Louis ends up getting the radio internship, to his extreme delight, and his first day is merely two days after the sign up. Nerves have somehow made its way into his system, and as he arrives to the small building that holds his only hope at this place, he takes two calming breaths before going in.

It turns out almost no one works there, though Louis could’ve probably predicted that with how the recruitment had been going back at the plaza, so the first person he sees is none one other than the man in the quiff, much to his dismay. Next to him is the other intern, Harry, smiling again (or did he ever stop?).

“Okay boys, let’s do this quick,” radio guy says, sounding as if he has to do something else soon which may be true because there must be a station in need of maintaining and all. “My name is Nick, I am the only one allowed into the booth; I am your boss, and you two are supposed stack the CDs I’ve left there.”

Harry’s smile drops, as do Louis’s dreams about his own radio slot.

“Questions?” Nick wonders, sounding as if he really wishes there are none. No one speaks. “Great, begin,” he instructs, walking towards the back-where the booth must be- and vanishing from their sights behind a shelf of books. “Oh and no silly business on the tables, leave it for the bedroom!” comes his voice again before they hear a door being shut. Harry seems embarrassed, but Louis is only slightly amused.

Since it seems that that’s it, he walks towards the nearest shelf and starts slowly going through the vinyl, looking for ideas for his next track. He is missing that one song that always brings the whole mix together, and he figures that a shelf full of chart topping singles is a good place to look for it. Several albums are well known to him, but when he finds one that isn’t, a cough is interrupting his thoughts. It must be coming from the only other soul in the room, so he turns around to face him.

Harry is leaning on the table, eyes bright in a way that makes Louis wonder what about all of this could possibly be the cause of the glint.

“Shouldn’t we be stacking CDs?” Harry asks, smile coy as if he knows his words sound like a telling off. Louis refuses to feel ashamed for a little track scouting, even if he had planned to do it all afternoon and ignore the actual work, so he shrugs but goes over to the table, picking up some cd’s and redirecting to an empty shelf. “I’m Harry by the way,” Harry says, and Louis already knows this, but saying so will mean admitting to noticing others and that’s something he doesn’t normally do.

“Louis." he answers while he places a Madonna record on the dusty shelf, wondering why on earth it is going to be next to a Slipknot one, and deciding he doesn’t really care. It’s not like anyone can blame him for being unmotivated while putting away stuff when he thought he’d get to do something actually musical.

They stay silent for some time, both surrounded only by the sound of plastic being set on wood, until Harry speaks.

“So why are you here Louis? I reckon CD stacking is not a very popular hobby, or at least not one of mine." Harry wonders, voice tainted with a hint of anger that indicates he too, expected more.

“What? It's my favourite pastime!” Louis says, mocking shock as he answers. “Why actually bother with doing something, I don’t know, musical, when you can do this all day right?” he adds, sarcasm figuratively dripping from his tone.

Harry actually laughs at that, head thrown back and body shaking. That’s when Louis notices, he doesn’t have an unpleasing physique, or eyes or face or anything. Harry is quite hot, really. His hair is long and curled deliciously around his face, which he hasn’t had much of a look at, but can say almost accurately that his eyes are green (or gray?) but definitely unique, with lips impossibly pink.

His body is lean and stretched, rather than his curvy, compressed own, and his clothes leave little to the imagination, with jeans sticking to his legs like glue, and shirt fitted in all the right places. He is about to read what it says on the fabric, exactly, when he notices the laugh has stopped and he has probably been staring for several minutes too long. He does blush at that but Harry pretends he hasn’t just been ogled, moving on to stack CDs as if nothing. Louis appreciates that as he shakes his head of the thoughts and keeps on with his incredibly boring task, pretending not to notice how his mind is bringing up any details it can conjure about the boy.

***

The next three days are peaceful.

Classes haven’t started yet (Louis arrived a week earlier to set up and ‘bond’ with his father before he had to actually attend anything) so he spends most of his time in his room mixing music. He still hasn’t found an appropriate song to finish off the mix that is sure to be one of his best when he does, so he is working on others, relishing in the sense of accomplishment when he finds a good match.

The rest of it is spent at the radio station with Harry who is certainly interesting to say the least. They keep stacking CDs, task boring after you’ve done it for more than ten minutes, but Harry has no problem with keeping quiet while at it, the radio playing in the background finding no competing sound.

The thing is, silence leaves space for other things, like thinking and noticing, which leads to Louis watching Harry and Harry watching Louis more times than not. They don’t talk about it, just watch the other playfully as they work, green meeting blue fleetingly and then leaving, shy. It’s not on purpose, but Louis can’t help but take the other boy in, and after three days of just absorbing, he thinks he has all the major aspects down. Not that he needs to know them or is interested, really. Harry is not his type, and he has made no indication of being gay so it’s better to just not think about his lean torso and ridiculously pink lips. It’s safer.

However, it all changes on Friday, when amidst placing a record on a shelf and reaching out for the next, Louis loses sight of Harry. The previously there mop of curls simply disappears below the shelf they were both mutually stocking, each on one side. Louis peers into the other side through an empty shelf, pushing onto his tiptoes when he does that, when suddenly Harry pops up, the creepiest album cover in existence in front of his face.

Louis yelps and falls back, startled while Harry laughs maniacally. His whole self is shaking with the energy of it, and Louis can’t help but be amused by this guy who is so silly, it is almost endearing. Almost. He carefully schools his face into a frown while he moves on, facing the shelf as he places another cd there and repeats the action.

Harry seems to have recovered for in the next gap he is holding up another record up to his face, but this time it has a baby face on the cover; the mix of his peeking curls making the sight strangely funny, but Louis manages to get past it with a roll of eyes and shake of head- and a smile but that doesn’t count, it just escapes his control. He feels Harry walk past him on the other side.

It’s almost thrilling, this break in routine that has him on his toes, expectant. It’s spontaneous, but Louis has a feeling Harry likes to be so; to keep people wondering what he’ll do next, keep them intrigued in ways Louis certainly is. Somehow, though, Louis doesn’t think that’s all there is to it since Harry seems to be having so much fun from just a stunt.

When they finally reach the next cleared area of shelf Louis sees an enlarged cat face and then Harry’s hand making a ridiculous claw gesture next to it and it is too much. Laughter bubbles up in him and he’s laughing, the sound horribly loud in the otherwise silent room. Harry is making an awfully smug face but he’s giggling too, and Louis feels his heart swell up the tiniest of bits. The way Harry tries to recompose his features fruitlessly doesn’t help, for it is as cute as anything can get.

When they’ve returned to their tasks, faces hidden with packed shelves, Harry talks, his gravelly voice resonating in Louis’ chest. “So that’s your thing, huh?” he asks, tone traced with playfulness. “Being 'all too cool for you' until  one day you forget to pretend and I get to make you laugh.” Harry explains, and it should sound like he’s trying to figure Louis out, but it really just sounds like he’s having fun, and he can’t bring himself to complain.

“But you’ve already made me laugh."  he shoots back instead, not nearly as cheeky as Harry’s own remarks.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, voice shifting somehow. “But not for long enough.”

***

Harry doesn’t let them go back to silence after Friday. Instead, he fills the void with glimpses of his life, from facts about where he was born—Cheshire, a small town that Louis now has quite the knowledge on, to things he did in his day which always turn out to be as random as possible. He talks about his sandwich which had too much pepper on it to the tortoise he once found when he was twelve; Louis can honestly say he doesn’t mind it, it’s a nice silence filler, and Harry has a nice voice.

He never answers though, just smiles or nods or frowns, but always silently. Harry manages to make him chuckle sometimes, but it’s mostly silence what he greets Harry with. Not awkward silence, but a respectful one, one that says "I’m interested in what you say" and "You amuse me'' and sometimes "I like hearing you speak". It is a silence that in a way, responds.

It’s a Tuesday, two weeks into the radio job when Harry comes in looking more tired than usual.

“Hey Lou." he says, using the nickname he automatically adopted the time he told Louis he had a cat named Dusty and Louis nodded as if he understood, making Harry smile. His voice is really rough around the edges and Louis perks up from where he was crouched and looking for a cd, taking a step in his direction.

“What happened to your voice?” Louis asks as Harry takes off his coat and grabs a handful of CDs, seemingly eager to get to it, which is a new thing.

“Oh nothing, just had a very intense practice today because one guy was kicked out and everyone’s stressed out,” Harry explains and Louis racks his brain for what practice could mean until he remembers.

“Over singing?” Louis enquires, skeptic. He knows Harry is part of the all boy acapella group on campus and that they sing at competitions and things of the sort but he never though they took it seriously. It sounds kind of silly to him.

“Yeah, the regionals are coming up and we’re missing one member now,” Harry muses, and he sounds so genuinely upset that Louis can’t bring himself to make a single comment. He continues, “I really hope we find someone at the auditions next week because if not I don’t know what we’ll do.” And Louis feels bad for him, even though it still seems silly to him, but Harry sounds so tired that for a moment he feels the urge to hug him tight. He pushes that feeling, down, down and into the dark where it belongs.

Harry still shares a fact that day. He tells Louis how when he was nine, he found a stray dog that he tried to feed, and it bit him, but he still tried to take it home. He laughs dryly when he recounts the freak out his mother had, voice worn and cracking painfully as his eyes twinkle. Louis’s heart grows another inch, feeding off every chuckle, but he’s too enthralled to notice.

The rest of the shift goes by in the same manner, and when they’re about to leave, Louis notices Harry’s worried look has returned. While they were stacking, he had somehow calmed down and adopted his usual playfulness but that’s masked by concern now, and something twists inside Louis.

He walks out of the station as usual, Harry trailing behind him, but then he stops and turns, walking towards where the other boy and hugging him. It is brief, but when they’re pulling apart Louis knows Harry sees the "it’ll work out" written in his look. A smile appears and Louis can’t help but mimic it as he walks away, cheeks breaking into a blush he doesn’t know how to control.

***

“Louis what are you doing in bed?” Troy says as he walks into the room. Louis can tell he’s angry, but his sleepy brain doesn’t do much with the information but tell him to sit up. He does, though for what escapes him.

“You are supposed to be in introduction to English now,” his father complains, and it sounds so harsh it has Louis alert in no time. He rubs a hand through his face tiredly. He knew he should’ve abandoned the computer when it was past three am, stupid, stupid him.

“Is this your plan? Just moping around?” Troy asks, unbelieving, though it sounds like a good plan in Louis’ ears. “You have to live it Louis. University is one of the greatest times of your life, soak it in! Go out and make friends, sign up for something!”

“Hey, I work at the radio station!" Louis shoots back, offended. His CD stacking is crucial to that place, thank you very much.

“That’s not good enough Louis!” says Troy, who sighs and seems to make up his mind about something. “Look, I’ll tell you what, if you go out and try to fit into this and still are unhappy by the end of the year, I’ll talk to your mother about you going back to England and she can help you move to London.”

“Really?” questions Louis, eyes wide with incredulity and excitement spiking.

“Yeah, but you need to really try,” Troy assures him sternly. “I want to see it.”

Louis nods and is overcome with an urge to tell someone. Harry supplies his brain, but he’s still half asleep so he excuses it’s stupidity as that and falls back into the bed as the door closes behind his father.

Now he only needs to find something that takes up none of his time and is easy to do. Doesn’t sound so hard.

***

It turns out, it really is hard.

As soon as he’d gathered the energy to get off bed, he’d gone over to the board of activities, but all the flyers had sign up dates from a week ago or more, and the ones still open were so unappealing he had gone back empty handed.

Louis really wanted to be able to go back to his mother and forget all about this stupid idea of getting to know his biological father. He already had Mark, and though he liked drama as his major, he liked music better. He needs a club for that though, since his personality will probably get him nowhere, and the search for one is getting tiring.

He ponders this as he grabs a pile of CDs, surprised that Harry hasn’t arrived at the station yet. The silence is almost alien to him, and he mindlessly starts singing the base song of his next mix, the beat catchy and lyrics silly. Louis concentrates on the task and the beat only, making tweaks here and there, perfecting the melody in his mind. He is so caught up in it he doesn’t notice Harry walking in until he is startled by his voice.

“You can sing!” comes his hoarse voice and Louis’s pulse spikes as he drops the CDs. Cursing—and blushing because oh god Harry heard him make a fool of himself - he bends down to pick them up as Harry walks nearer.  His stomach tenses and he wishes he could make himself disappear, but it’s useless as Harry halts in front of his crouched figure.

“Why didn’t you tell me you idiot!” Harry says, and it is different than the laugh he expected to get. “You’re exactly what we need at the Toners!” he exclaims and he sounds so elated that Louis' face just contorts into one of horror immediately.

“You have to audition right away yeah, the boys will love you.” he goes on and Louis may be positively nauseous so he gets up slowly and stares Harry right in the eye.

“Harry, look I think that you singing is great but it’s not my thing.” Louis clearly enunciates, wincing slightly when Harry’s whole expression falls. Something twists uncomfortably inside him as he watches the gleam in Harry’s eye dwindle down.

“But you’d like it Lou, and the boys at the club are great, I mean it.” Harry pleads and oh. Club. That hadn’t crossed his mind.

The only thing standing between him and London; offered to him by mere chance. A singing club but a qualifying one despite that.  Louis thinks that if a god exists, then it’s certainly having his fun here, offering him a chance but demanding too big of an exposure for it. Doesn’t mean he’s not considering it though, because London.

Louis sighs, knowing he will surely regret this after Harry’s gone and his face is out of his sight, the guilt those green eyes are giving him forgotten when the stage lights illuminate him. He breathes out in defeat and asks, “When’s the audition?”

Harry just squeals and hugs him tight as Louis wills his erratic heart to calm down.

***

The first thing Louis notices when he gets to the theater is that he is certainly not the only one. A line has formed outside the door, and it feels slightly ridiculous to be so expectant about an insignificant position at a university club. His whole future depends on him acing the audition and, gulp, being better than the eight other people here though, so he figures that at least, his nerves are founded.

He checks his clock once and the looks around. The other people here look more of the acapella type than he does, honestly, but he has underdone the eyeliner and swapped the biggest of his ear spikes for simpler ones, so he can at least say he tried. Some are doing various vocal exercises, but he has no idea how to even perform that so he just queues there ordinarily.

Ten minutes after—and about the time Louis decides that he will most likely be kicked out of here if he yells at the annoying boy in front of him--the door opens and the first one up is called in. Louis’s blood feels thicker, and the undercurrent that runs through it now feels overcharged and alive with nerves. He goes over the lyrics on his mind, a last minute pick he hasn’t prepared enough. The song is one of his favourites lately, so he can sing it in his sleep even, but that’s not as comforting as it should be. His head is an overheated computer, and he fans it out  by tapping his foot almost maniacally in a way that is sure to be annoying but he can’t honestly care when he feels about to jump out of his skin.

He almost doesn’t notice when he is supposed to go in, too worried to notice the guy formerly in front of him leaving through the doors. Louis breathes in and then out several times as he takes the stage, where the lights are shining directly above him.

He lifts his gaze from the floor once he reaches the center, and his eyes immediately fall on Harry, whose smile is wide and bright as he gives Louis double thumbs up. It makes him smile.

“Hi, uhm, I’m Louis Tomlinson and I guess I should sing now?” he says, voice going higher at the end and somehow making it into a question. He’ll kick himself for that later.

“Go ahead,” a guy in the audience says, and Louis breathes in and out once more before he starts singing.

His voice quivers at first, but he starts to accompany it with the soft tap of his hand against his thigh, gaining rhythm as the song builds up. The key is comfortably inside his range, but his heart beats loud and clear in his ears, a beat more to add up. Louis slowly eases himself into the song, and when he reaches the chorus, he is playing around with the melody, figuring that why not? Harry is still smiling, so he figures it can’t be that bad.

He stretches the last note a second longer and then he’s smiling because that went pretty well and he is allowed to be slightly proud of himself--and maybe his lips quirk up an extra inch because Harry is clapping like mad, but no one needs to know that.

“Thank you Louis, we’ll contact you.” the same guy says, and his voice is oddly formal for a university student but Louis nods and gets off the stage, excitement dwindling down minimally. He goes through the door and actually smiles at the other contestants as he leaves.

He gets the call the next day.

***

The first rehearsal he attends is two days after the audition, and considering that regionals are very soon, it doesn’t strike him as odd. Louis is calm as he walks into the practice room, has nothing to prove anymore. It’s just fun, and getting to see Harry even more, so it could’ve been worse.

Sounds of people singing are coming through the door as he arrives, and the energy is almost uncomfortable. It’s the afternoon, but being a day off, he has just gotten up and it honestly is a bit too much for his mind to process. He pushes through the doors with a sigh because well, he’s come this far and he figures why not try? The reward is worth it.

“You’re late,” is the first thing he’s told, by the same boy who spoke to him at auditions.

Now that he can have a better look, he realizes that he is quite good looking, with a buzz cut at the sides and a short quiff on top, body toned and worked on. His face is contorted into a frown, though, and that really upsets the features much to Louis’s dismay.

“I was sleeping, sorry,” he apologizes, even though the guy has just made him feel like a three year old who ate a cookie he shouldn’t have. He notices that Harry is sitting on one side of the room alongside a few others, watching silently as the muscled guy, who he supposes is the leader, chews Louis out. He can’t really blame him though, the man would be a really bad subject to pick a fight with, and it’s not like Harry is supposed to defend him, or something.

“Well you need to start coming in on time from now on, as well as staying later with one of the guys to learn the routine, okay?” the student continues, and Louis nods before walking over to the rest.

“Oi, you must be Louis,” exclaims a blond boy, intercepting Louis, who is pretty sure he said his name at auditions but okay. “Harry here can’t stop gushing about your voice, reckon he’s got himself a crush there mate,” he continues, winking as Harry’s eyes widen with horror and a blush spreads on his cheeks. Louis winks at him, letting the comment slide off. He’s not going to dwell on it now.

“Name’s Niall,” the boy says just as Harry walks over, looking borderline murderous while he pulls Niall away by the collar and replaces him.

“That is not true, I mean you have a great voice and it is perfect but I didn’t--I didn’t mean--” Harry says, flustered and tripping over his own words. He sighs and seems to give up. “I’ll introduce you to the rest.” he says instead, defeated. It makes Louis chuckle.

Harry takes Louis over to the group of members who have already began warm ups under the leader’s--“Liam,” Harry whispers into his ear--direction. Liam is eying them suspiciously, and Louis is not getting a very good impression of him, to say the least. They stand on the side as Harry starts pointing to people and saying their name and some strange words that Louis figures may be their singing ranges, or abilities or whatever.

“And that’s Zayn.” Harry says, pointing to the last of the members. They are about twelve in total, all of them male since it’s one of the club requisites, and they are very different in manner and appearances. It looks like a really random bunch of students pulled together in despair. Louis really hopes they’re not.

Harry pulls him by the arm and into the formation of sorts, settling round him and mimicking the exercise everyone else seems to be doing. Louis looks around, lost, and then opens his mouth to copy them, well attempt to.

 

The rest of practice goes by in what could be called a failure. Liam is really strict, and Louis naturally fails more than anyone else, but combined. His melodies are apparently off pitch, his dancing is too random, he cannot get the steps down, and he is pretty sure Liam told him to lose weight. He pretended to scoff and wiggled his ass at that. Harry laughed. Liam didn’t.

Louis thinks it could be fun, if everyone just relaxed, but when he whispers so to Harry, the other boy stares at him incredulously. Everyone is dedicated to the practice, and somewhere along the four hours, he absorbs maybe a pinch of will to do it right, though it may just be his ego not wanting to get hurt by losing at the regionals.

After practice, Liam calls for him to stay as everyone leaves, and Louis could really do without the scolding when his muscles are burning this bad, but he needs to not be kicked out for at least two more moths and ticking the leader off is certain to get him an out ticket.

“Yeah Louis, look I just wanted to make sure you are going to devote yourself to this, because we cannot carry , how do I say this,  someone unwilling at nationals, and you don’t really seem our type.” Liam says, staring into Louis’s eyes as he enunciates what is in reality, a masked threat.

“No, no I understand.” Louis answers, though what he really wants to do is slap Liam because yeah he may have some piercings and he may line his eyes but if he signs up for something he’ll do it. The challenge Liam has just imposed on him only makes his will to be good and crush it at regionals much stronger, just to prove him wrong.

He nods once again and turns to leave but he hears Liam clear his throat and he reluctantly spins again.

“Oh, and remember Louis, no interclub dating.” Liam says, gaze harsh as Louis gulps forcibly. “At all.”

***

It starts being a routine after that.

He’ll go to class and then to practice where Liam pressures him until his toes hurt and his voice is borderline hoarse. Louis notices that he does that to others too, to Zayn who keeps to himself and sings painfully low, to Niall who jumps around and is actually the only one who sympathizes with Louis and is a right laugh, even to Harry whose voice Louis can’t get enough of.

It is deep and rich, a cake but for the years as he’s told by Niall, and Louis just feels like laying down and listening to him sing all day, but he hasn’t perfected his falsetto and Liam won’t back off until he does, so half of his time is consumed there. He picks up Harry from amongst the chorus easily, though, and he focuses on it as he does the mandatory splits and other gym activities, careful to lift his butt an inch higher when he feels Harry’s eyes on him, push it out when he comes near.

And it is not conscious, but somehow they’ve fallen into a weird flirtation that neither one stops. Louis will be singing and Harry will randomly pinch his nipple, making him go off pitch, or slap his ass and chuckle quietly while Louis stares at him with mock indignation. In turn, he makes sure to wear the tightest shorts he can find, assuring himself that it is not for Harry even though he knows it is, because Harry is off limits, and not even gay, though evidence shows he may be, and an overall bad idea. A really bad idea with blowjob lips and sinful voice.

The air between them just buzzes time to time, charged in an energy that makes Louis just want to jump and ravish the boy, and he is sure that Harry looks at him with that devious smirk because he feels it too, but no one does anything; they can’t.

At the radio station, things will be the same, both of them walking to it together after practice wordlessly and Harry sharing bits and pieces of him with a voice so spent, it sounds as rough as Louis cannot handle.

And somewhere along the month they spend rehearsing, Louis starts sharing things back, answering with simple ideas at first and then evolving into a memory ping pong of sorts. Harry gets this look sometimes, like he’s really interested in what Louis is saying, and it spurs him on. He ends up telling Harry so many things, that he figures the boy knows more than should be normal, but nothing in their relationship even resembled normalcy, so he lets it slip by, and into the pool of gestures and words that don’t fit into the word friend; a pile that grows so fast, it should be concerning.

Rehearsals help keep his mind off it though, and Louis can honestly say that sometimes, it’s fun. Once, while they were doing cardio--for who knows what in Louis’s breathless opinion--Niall had whizzed by, his skinny body powered forward by a Segway. He’d been laughing maniacally and when they’d tried to pull him off, he’d done a whole scene that included a shout of ''I’ll never let you go Sheila!'’ and a lot of laughing by Harry and Louis. That was a good day.

Another day, Louis and a surprisingly mischievous Zayn had replaced the water in Harry’s thermos for vodka, and watching Harry’s reaction had been so good they’d laughed all through the warm ups, stomach muscles protesting.  So all in all it isn’t that bad, and as Louis enters through the doors on a Monday, he is eager to begin.

However, as soon as he gets there he finds all the chairs pushed back and the lights dimmer than usual. All the boys are in the center, and as he goes nearer he can hear Harry chuckle softly.

“What’s going on?” he asks, confused and slightly scared since he doesn’t put anything past Liam, not with how much he is willing to do.

“It’s riff off day Lou, didn’t you read the mass text?” Harry comes to his rescue, tugging him closer to the group and talking in a hushed voice and the rest of the group warms up.

“What the hell is a riff off?” Louis enquires, confusion only growing.

Harry then proceeds to explain that it’s a training exercise where a random topic will be chosen and the team has to find a song that fits in and improvise it. The other teams need to find a fitting word and interrupt, continuing so until a group loses. It sounds kind of fun.

The teams are divided by Liam, who pointedly stares at Louis as he puts him on one team, and Harry on  other, making a statement Louis cannot be bothered to care for.

Microphones are spread around, and as the teams separate, Harry motions to him.

“You’re going down.” he mouths, cocky. Louis shrugs and mouths back, “I don’t care.” Smiling when Harry shakes his hair and grins at him; a gesture he has to pretend he doesn’t store away in the special Harry place he certainly does not have.

Liam, oblivious to the interaction, picks up his phone and shuffles a digital topic stack, everyone but Louis crowding around him expectantly. There seems to be a general excitement about this, one Louis just cannot match, but it’s nice to see Niall and Zayn giggling nervously. After a second, Liam announces, “songs by Ladies of the eighties.”

The three teams gather, one on each corner, talking rapidly. Louis, enveloped by Zayn on his side and watching Harry--and his team, to notice their moves, for sure--on the side of his eye. He notices a collective gasp and Niall running into the circle and mouth opening as he starts a song.

“Oh Mickey you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind...” He sings enthusiastically, and as a switch being flipped, his whole team starts up a beat, mixing the lyrics with mouthed drums and accurate guitar strumming. It sounds amazing.

He is so caught up in it that he doesn’t notice John, a scrawny kid he doesn’t talk much to, approach the other team and silence them with a gesture as he initiates a song himself, picking up the last word sung and switching the tempo completely. “…like you wanted me, that’s okay, let’s see how you do it...”

His team rapidly joins in, and Louis is so amazed by this impromptu song, he stays rooted to the spot, speechless. He watches as each person on his team, even Zayn, sings without any inhibitions, having fun as they build the song up. Smiles are spread all around, but soon a person of the third team--Clive?--approaches the circle and interrupts.

Something seems to be wrong though, because after he sings a line, everybody makes a buzzing noise with their mouths, and Liam steps in the middle of the invisible circle, clapping and announcing that they’re “cut off”. Louis asks Zayn why, and he says that he sang it’s instead of it, and that apparently disqualifies his team. They don’t seem that affected though, laughing and sitting down as the two remaining teams gaze at each other in what appears to be mock fierceness.

Liam takes out his phone again and repeats the shuffling motion, pursing his lips before he discloses, “Songs about sex” And Louis chuckles at his obvious discomfort, following him with his eyes as he goes back to his team, changing his focus to Harry then. His friend notices this, and winks before tracing his lips with his tongue seductively. Louis’ heart stops.

Niall seems to get the idea first, or so Louis realizes after he clears his throat and looks away from Harry, blushing. The blonde smiles and shakes his hips playfully as he intones Rihanna, arms moving weirdly. Louis would laugh if his eyes weren’t trained on Harry again, who is looking at him with a gaze that definitely resembles that he gives to Louis during one of his ass grabbing acts, but concentrated, unabashed. It makes Louis’ flush extend to his chest, and he is clueless as to why.

Someone on Louis’s team decides to intervene then, “sex baby, let’s talk about you and me...” sings Rick, and Louis joins the rest of the group as they support him this time, joining the beat with a steady pop of lips and release of air. His eyes are still trained on Harry’s though, and keeping that in mind, he moves his hips mere inches, but side to side, in a dance that is borderline risky. It works wonders on the boy though, since he seems to decide enough is enough and steps on the front of his group, cutting Louis’ off.

“Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you,” Harry sings, voice octaves lower in a way too evidenced by his smirk to be innocent. Louis finds himself nearing the front of his group, drawn in by the green eyed devil.

He reaches the front just as Harry sings “like you want me to.” taking the situation to his advantage and pointing to Louis and then to him, gesture clear. His mouth looks irresistibly pink as it moves, and his eyes are fiery and challenging; two things Louis just can’t let go now that he’s seen.

Harry is starting a new line with “And I” when Zayn cuts him off.

“And I guess it's just the woman in you that brings out the man in me…” his friend sings, and Louis joins him immediately, inching much closer than he should. Zayn hits the notes perfectly, and he seems to be oblivious to the way he moves his body, much to Louis’s dismay because well, the boy can certainly move.

Harry’s eyes widen and he’s stepping closer, breathing in and singing as Zayn huffs out annoyed.

“Now I got you in my space I won’t let go of you…” Harry breathes out and oh, that definitely sounds like a promise. Louis’s brain faintly wonders what he’s getting into, but that’s just a small part amongst a sea of oh god his lips his eyes oh god.

Harry now starts to dance, if it can be called that way, since he is moving his hips teasingly slow. And it should look silly, probably does, but Louis can’t help picture Harry above him, rotating in that very way. His cock twitches at that.

Louis is just about to drool all over the place when another member of their group, a close friend of Zayn’s called Anthony--- most probably--joins him from behind, caging Louis in and making Harry’s eyes darken perceptibly.

Then Louis comes up with a song, and he smirks as he breathes in.

“I've been feeling weird, oh! Oh, I need you to come and rescue me…” he sings, and it is certainly an answer to the question Harry is asking, one that is probably already evidenced by how Louis is focused on him and only him, surrounded by a cloud of intensity.

Harry realizes and steps closer, impossibly close to the dancing trio.

“You shake your ass around for everyone, I love the way you dance with anybody…” Harry intones, and Louis chuckles from where he is being pressed against Zayn and Anthony, who are very obliviously dancing in mock sexiness even though between Harry and Louis, things are dead serious.

He seems to be calling him in, and as Harry sings “'Cause you look so much cuter with something in your mouth…” Louis’s jaw drops. It does nothing to help his mental images, and by now, his breaths are coming out in short rasps. It doesn’t keep him from smirking when the perfect song pops up, though, and he lets go of the other boys as he steps into Harry’s space.

He can clearly see the speckled green and widened pupils, the faint sweat gathered on his forehead as he cuts in “My saddle's waiting ,come and jump on it…”

It seems to do the trick for Harry who gasps and grabs Louis from the neck, breaths mingling as he leans in and--“Okay, okay I’m calling a tie,” interrupts Liam, forcibly tearing them apart just as Louis prepares his fragile mind to the idea of Harry Styles kissing him. He really wants to kill the guy, and Harry doesn’t look too far off from it.

Louis chuckles and shakes his head as he retreats, the idea that Harry wants him and he does too, extremely dangerous. It doesn’t keep his mind off how those plump lips would feel around his cock, unfortunately.

***

Regionals catch Louis by surprise, the previously far away event hitting him on the face. They’re prepared, and he knows it, has learnt the same routine as them, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t nervous when in a minute he’ll be singing in front of a theatre full of people and judges.

Harry notices this and comes over, their relationship normal after the ignored riff off. Louis still feels the charged air between them, knows Harry does too, but they both choose to turn around and let it be, not craving the complicated consequences of acknowledging it.

Harry gives him a tight hug and whispers “You’ll be great. Tv” into Louis’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine as he nods doubtfully. But then they’re being called on to the stage and Harry smiles at him once more before the lights fall on them, revealing.

They smash it.

***

“Everyone come on, settle down.” Liam says as they all excitedly pile on to the van on the way back, the thrill of qualifying for the state instances fresh on their minds.

Louis somehow lands a seat next to Niall, who smiles proudly by his side. He likes Niall, always a chirpy lad, so he doesn’t necessarily mind, plus he is directly behind Harry which means  he can fantasize free of curious looks from the boy all the way back. But first, he’s got to listen to Liam.

“The score sheet showed that the socappellas almost beat us guys,” the self-proclaimed leader announces, and Louis leans in to whisper to Niall.

“The fellas with the socks on their hands?” He checks and the blonde nods. “I liked them, they were unique.” he adds honestly and Niall nods absentmindedly, attention already lost.

Group after group had sung on that stage, and to Louis, they’d all merged together, so almost being beaten by a surprisingly good group of people with socks isn’t much humiliating as it is nerve wracking. He needs this club at least a month more, plus he kind of wants to move on and win as well, not that he’d say that out loud.

“We have to practice harder,” Liam declares and Louis’s eyes widen. Harder? They already practice every single day, more would be not only impossible but madness. “We cannot let them beat us when we know we can go much further, guys.”

Everyone on the bus nods, and Louis does too, wondering how it’d feel to win the national championships. Better than any group in England, it’d mean, and he feels strangely anxious to know how that would be. They need to improve if he’s ever going to though.

“Hey Liam?” He calls as soon as the others have resumed their chatting. The boy turns around, face reflecting his surprise at Louis willingly interacting with him, and nods in acknowledgement.

“I was thinking that maybe what we need is a more free style-- to use modern songs and remix them, not stay in the old classics,” Louis explains his idea, nodding excitedly.

He can picture it; the group singing a master remix including some Usher or some other artist, beats mingling and voices emulating the constant hitting of drums. All young lads dancing around energetically on stage, making some dumb choreography and having fun. That would make them unbeatable, he bets.

“I’ll--I will think about it,” is Liam’s response, but his face is a clear indicator that he won’t. His lips are pursed and eyebrows furrowed in an expression Louis cannot get down but knows, means no good mix, and very probably, no winning.

He slumps in his seat as Niall starts talking; wishing Harry would turn around so he would at least share his frustration, but not tapping his shoulder as to get him to. He already has too many things under that head of curls, more likely, and it’s not as if Louis wants Harry to console him--but he does, oh he does--or anything of the sort. Louis sighs and burrows further into his seat.

It’s complicated.

***

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping and students are littered on every part of the park, and it’d be the perfect cliché if Louis wasn’t sitting in the middle of it all, cursing at the amount of noise and placing his headphones over his thankful ears.

It’s Friday afternoon, and since his classes have ended, Louis is laying on the grass, computer on his lap and unfinished remix playing on the background. It is everything but relaxing though, because he still cannot find the perfect song and it is so frustrating, he gives up and leans back on the grass, closing his eyes and breathing out.

Black suddenly flashes over his eyelids and he feels someone sit next to him, thigh touching his. Startled--and wondering how to say ‘fuck off’ without being too mean--he sits up and opens his eyes, scared about what he may find.

It’s Harry.

Clad with a heavily torn rucksack that has more pins than fabric, he has sat down next to Louis and is smiling as if he’s had the best day ever, green sparkling with glee. It’s odd, but not surprising when it comes to Harry, Louis guesses. He has always struck him as random, so the fact that he is handing him a bag of dried mango snacks doesn’t surprise him much.

Louis takes it and eyes it dubiously before popping one into his mouth and wincing.

“You actually like this, Harold?” He asks, chewing around the foul flavour and swallowing it forcefully.

Harry merely chuckles and eats three pieces at once. Louis pretends to gag.

“So, what brought this on?” He asks, motioning to the small setting Harry has created for himself next to him. He doesn’t mind it at all, surprisingly, but he wonders the nature of it. They’ve never hung out outside the radio or practice.

“Well as much as I love stacking Cds, and I do, it makes my whole day; I thought we could hang out outside it and not be at practice either, you know?” Harry answers, taking out a movie and motioning for Louis to put into his laptop, which he does.

Louis nods in response and leans back, joined by Harry, who thankfully hands him a chocolate bar. His stomach swoops, but just a little, since the title soon appears on the screen.

“Really? Love Actually, Harry?” Louis chuckles, shaking his head as Harry blushes and shushes him barely before the character begins talking.

 

The wind has certainly picked up by the time they’re at the middle of the movie and Louis is shivering. He tries to not be obvious about it, he really doesn’t want to break this space they’ve created, but after a particularly strong gust, Harry turns to watch him and places an arm around him, smiling as he encourages Louis to sink further into his warm, toned, chest. A strong homey feeling floods through Louis’s body, and he relaxes, ignoring the alarms going through his head in favour of stealing Harry’s heat and stealthily--or not that so, since Harry smirks--feeling his abs.

The movie progresses and ends with Harry tearing up and Louis feeling so fond he might explode, both boys shaking out of it quickly and with burning cheeks. Louis coughs awkwardly.

It’s late, and he really doesn’t want to let Harry go, wants to keep him at his side all times, but that’s not a rational thought, he recognizes. Louis is about to say goodbye when his stomach rumbles and Harry laughs.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Harry asks, and Louis can sense he’s nervous; he is too because it sounds strangely like a date, and he really wants to say yes. After the movie, he figures, there’s not that much damage left to be done, so it can’t be that bad. Or it can, but whatever, he’s starving and there’s no one left at the park to judge him when he says yes perhaps too excitedly and follows Harry without a question, so he won’t overanalyze it. No, he won’t, and he certainly won’t feel an itch to grab his hand while they walk either.

Harry ends up taking them to the small diner that’s a short walk from the park, and since it is Friday, it’s packed. The luckily get a crammed booth at the back, where things seem calmer, and Louis sits across from Harry, eyeing the menu and wondering nervously what to order.

It feels like a date, and desperate to prove it isn’t, he orders a burger, something messy he never would eat in front of someone who he likes. It makes him stupidly smug until he realizes that Harry is someone he likes, and though he can’t date him, he really doesn’t want to get ketchup all over his face and have him think Louis is disgusting. He kicks himself under the table for his brilliant idea.

Harry, on the other hand, remains oblivious, but he’s twitching nervously on his seat and darting his eyes around the place. Nothing seems to be wrong to Louis, but as soon as the waiter places their plates on the table--the burger being the greasiest thing he can imagine and it looks so good but, oh god, the mess---he snaps out of his trance.

“I have to ask you something,” Harry blurts out. “It’s why I came to you today, actually.”

“Okay?” Louis says, tone going higher in the end and turning it into a question. His stomach is tensing at the possibilities, but he wills for it to calm down and wait for  Harry to speak.

“I have two tickets for a concert and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” the boy says, tone hopeful as he looks at Louis though his eyelashes. “It’s tomorrow and I know it’s sort of last minute, but I really want to go with you Lou.” His large hands are fidgeting as he says this, and the way his eyes twinkle with a "please" is too adorable for Louis to ignore.

“Me?” Louis confirms, confused. Harry’s face falls as he speaks, and his cheeks start getting red, so Louis speaks quickly again. “I mean I’d love to Harry, I just can’t promise I’ll know any of the songs from the indie artist you’ll drag me off to.” He adds and Harry looks up, surprised and grinning widely.

“Don’t worry about it.” he says, and Louis smiles too.

***

Turns out the concert is at a small park, and Louis dresses in his--admittedly tight as can be--favorite jeans and a jumper to protect him from the cold, slipping on his black converse as he styles his hair minimally so his fringe won’t bother him during the night.

Harry had messaged him with the details and name of the band, The Cab, he’d said,? and Louis hasn’t got the faintest idea of who they are, but they’d arranged for Harry to come by Louis’ dorm so they could share a cab to the venue.

Louis’s phone vibrates as he’s putting away his wet towel, and he takes it out hastily.

I’m at the door, come down xx H

He exhales a shaky breath and straightens his sweater before grabbing his keys, checking his hair on the mirror, and closing the door behind him as he walks down the hall and out the entrance of the dorm building.

As promised, Harry is standing patiently at the bottom of the steps, and Louis has to pause for a second to admire.

The boy is wearing a pair of jeans that’s as dark and clingy as physically possible, and Louis thinks about how hard it would be to get them off before deciding it’s too slippery of a slope and moving on, taking in Harry’s worn band shirt under a plaid shirt and his ridiculous suede boots. It’s certainly very him, at least, and Louis smiles before looking around and spotting the cab.

“Let’s go,” Harry says, tugging on Louis’ sleeve and pushing him gently into the cab, rattling off the address to the driver and settling on the seat next to Louis.

He can feel Harry twitching excitedly, and he slowly places a hand on his thigh, stilling his bouncing leg. The boy looks up at him shyly and Louis smiles, patting Harry’s limb twice and keeping his hand there, feeling too comfortable to question it.

The rest of the ride is comfortably silent, and as they get there Louis pays for the cab, both boys having agreed--albeit reluctantly on Harry’s part--that since the younger had paid the tickets Louis would take care of the rest.

Groups of people are already queuing up at the gate, and beyond it, Louis can spot the twinkle of glow sticks and the silhouettes of the spectators already in. Having been to merely a concert or two, his stomach churns with anticipation, and he smiles tentatively at Harry while they get their tickets checked.

As soon as they pass through the gate, Louis starts noticing that almost everyone is dressing in some sort of variation of Harry’s outfit. It’s almost funny, to see the quirky boy surrounded by people with similar styles and have Louis be the one sticking out.

They get in line for some beer from a stand several feet away from the growing crowd by the stage, and Louis turns to Harry, eying him skeptically.

“You’ve brought me into the hipster lair, Harry.” he deadpans, making Harry laugh and shake his head. The boy looks good under the lights, and Louis pauses for a second, forgetting what he was saying in favour of coming up with a name for the way Harry’s simply beaming right now. The customer in front of them advances and they do too, Louis snapping out of his ideas regretfully.

“I did not.” Harry complains, elongating the vocals and sounding like a grown up baby. Louis supposes he shouldn’t find that cute. He pointedly stares at him, because really, if he sees one more fedora he’ll scream.

“It’s a nice band, you’ll like it.” the boy assures as Louis eyes the stand’s menu and orders two bottles of beer and a packet of M&M’s because why not?

He hands one to harry and they make their way into the crowd, pushing around slightly so that they’re a good distance from the stage. People soon surround them at all sides, and it’s exactly what Louis hates about this type of concerts, but here it means being pressed up against Harry, so he can’t really complain, not when he’s touching him from shoulder to toes, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

Soon, the lights start circling the stage and five dark figures enter it, settling around what Louis can guess are instruments. A beat of wild cheering goes by, and then there’s a guitar, and some drums and a song’s starting, lights blinking on and off and people’s shouts increasing.

Louis knows not the song, nor the band, but he likes it, feels the rhythm enter his body, the thump thump echoing inside him. He turns to Harry in order to tell him so, but he finds the boy already staring at him, grinning and bopping his head to the rhythm.

The song ends and the next begins, a string of different beats coming one after the other. The crowd dances around them when a funky one comes on, and Louis grabs Harry to do just that, moves his hips weirdly and gains chuckles lost in the beat.

Vendors push themselves along the crowd, and Louis ends up buying more alcohol than he should, his head pleasantly intoxicated. Harry mimics his state behind him and smiles goofily as they continue dancing, not having stopped ever since they started.

They’ve somehow moved closer, and Louis has enough poison in his veins to allow it, to relish in how Harry’s hips grind on him from behind, lazily as they cheer for the band. The song changes and Harry turns his head around to stare at Louis, lips red from biting and eyes brightly green from the drinking and lights.

Louis feels himself leaning in, tilting his head in just the right position and feeling Harry’s breath against his lips. He’s about to close the last inch, kiss the boy hard and long as he wants to, when the crowd , jumping and hyped up as the drums echo, topples over them, startling the boys and pulling them apart.

When they reunite, they stand apart, shockingly sober and embarrassed. Louis is about to say something when Harry points to a man with a monocle and they can’t help but laugh, Harry stepping an inch closer and the awkwardness dissipating.

Louis cheers the loudest when they perform the last song, and he fails to notice the adoring green eyes that store the memory.

***

The van is quiet as they make their way to the state finals, wheels on asphalt the only sound perceptible. Louis himself is quiet, half asleep and leaning heavily on Harry, head cuddled between the boy’s shoulder and chin, and it’s absolutely platonic. It is. Even if Louis wants nothing more than for the ride to stretch endlessly as he breathes in Harry’s faint cologne and nuzzles further into him, he won’t take it as something couples do, and even less if Harry seems so natural about it while he listens to whatever blasts from his earphones.

Niall’s at the wheel after serious questioning about the validity of his license, that Louis is still convinced must be fake because the blonde is an absolute menace behind the wheel. The twists are sharp and brakes sudden, and the air is already tense with the nerves that competing naturally brings, so it’s no surprise Niall turns on the radio.

The music fills the van, and Louis sees Niall gently bopping his head to the beat, Zayn whistling softly along moments later. The rest seem to perk up once Liam starts gently adding a tss followed by a ptss in the background, giving the murmurs a relation.

Niall turns the music down a little, and Harry notices what’s going on and removes his headphones, smiling once he realizes what is happening. His gravelly voice joins the rest, and suddenly everyone in the van, except Louis, is singing.

Their voices sound really good, mixing unexpectedly; matching the techno background of the tune. When the chorus is about to break they all turn to Louis expectantly, eyes open with implication. He huffs out a jokingly exasperated breath and sings the first line of the stanza, his voice joined by Harry, who is positively glowing, as they move on to the next one.

The rest of the trip isn’t nearly as tense, or boring.

***

Louis’ group watches from the side as some other schools team performs, jaws dropped and confidence slipping.

The thing is, they’re good, really good. Their choreography is upbeat and transitions flawless, singers able to reach impossible notes. Every member of the audience is dancing on their feet, smiling. And Louis knows, as do the rest of the Toners, that there’s no way in hell they’ll be able to beat them and the other impeccable group that opened the ceremony, not with their old school dance moves and 70’s songs.

Liam seems to sense this and gathers them around, voice firm and attempting to comfort as he says , “Come on guys, we only need to beat one of them to get through, and we will if everyone sticks to what we’ve practiced okay?” He directs the last bit at Louis, who smiles sweetly as they disband and take microphones from the sound guy.

As they line up to enter, Louis feels a soft tap on his shoulder, turns around to find Harry, who hugs him and whispers a "You’ll be great." into his ear. He smiles and returns to position, ignoring the daggers Liam is shooting him with his eyes and breathing in deeply. It’s time.

The lights dim and they walk in, positioning themselves in the well-practiced formation, Liam and Harry at the front, flanked by Niall and Zayn, and then Louis and Anthony and the rest following.

Slowly, the lights increase and they’re singing, Louis holding the steady chorus of ‘oohs’ that form the background. It’s so rehearsed, that that and his choreography--a step here, a step there--flows out of him, and he can concentrate on the audience who, without that much of a shock, he finds dozing off.

He nervously notices the judges shaking their heads and writing down annotations, and he can physically feel his stomach dropping. Louis’s lost chance of London should flash though his mind, but instead, the possibility of losing this routine he has with the boys and especially, Harry does, and he panics.

Louis opens his mind and does exactly what Liam hates him for; he improvises with the song they’d sung at the van, the modern of it mingling with the classic the rest is singing. He lets out a string of lyrics he recalls, all in a tone that compliments the previously existing one.

It sounds good, and the judges’ demeanor changes, them writing down new things with small smiles now. He feels a slight sense of accomplishment boom inside him, and he fails to notice Niall shooting him questioning glances as the blonde screws up a small aspect of the dance, bewildered.

He does notice Liam staring him down, though, and as they switch songs, he lets his voice fade out, happy with the result.

As soon as they get off the stage, Liam takes him by the biceps and pulls on it hard until Louis stills.

“What the hell was that Louis? Were you trying to make us fail back there?” Liam accuses, stepping closer to Louis, who refuses to be intimidated.

“Are you kidding me? Everybody was bored by our performance Liam, I was saving it.” Louis snaps back, amused that the ‘leader’ hadn’t noticed the crowd’s reaction or thinking he might’ve been ignoring it because it wasn’t what he expected. Louis noticed the boy tends to do that.

“Well nobody asked you to.” Liam says, tone cold and arms crossed.

The rest of the group holds back, unwilling to be forced into such fights. Louis meets stares with Niall, who puts up his hands in a clear sign of refusal to be involved, and then Zayn, who casts his gaze to the floor. He doesn’t spot Harry.

“I knew you were never a real member, Louis.” Liam announces, stepping back from Louis’s space, an invisible barrier separating the outsider boy from the rest of the group and their leader out front.

“Your attitude is terrible, you are a bloody pain in my ass and I know you’re breaking the no dating rule." Liam adds, punctuating each member of the list of why’s with a tiny step back, accentuating them further.

“Breaking it with whom, Harry?” Louis asks, disbelieving. He can’t honestly deal with it at the same time as he’s being kicked out, he can’t, and his tone reflects it, showing the mess going on in his head and the anger winning each battle.

“You don’t have to be so bitter about it.” comes the voice of Harry, who chooses to announce his presence right then, tone hurt in ways Louis’ racing mind cannot process. The angered boy turns around, exasperated at the pile of problems that just gets bigger. He doesn’t know how to deal with pained Harry, with screaming Liam and with how everything’s fallen down in minutes, he simply does not.

“Why do you even care if I’m bitter it’s not like I’m really dating you or something Harry, god!” Louis practically screams, hands gesturing frantically in the air, anger finally toppling over from where it’s been building.

“You’re right, you are not.” is all Harry says, soft and barely there as he meets Louis’s eyes with a pained expression and flees the scene.

As Louis watches the boy go, he thinks he sees the telltale sign of tears, but he isn’t sure, because Harry has run far away and he’s not there running beside him as he should.

***

They come in third, losing their chance at nationals.

Louis spends the day thinking about what ifs and falls asleep to forgiving green eyes he longs to see.

He calls Harry three times, but the boy never answers or calls back. Louis tries, in vain, to hold back the sadness, but he fails miserably.

***

Louis waits impatiently outside the plain white house that belongs to his father, mind going over what he wants to say. Then the door rustles and Troy appears, surprised.

“Hey Louis,” He says, stepping aside and letting Louis through. “I didn’t know you were coming?” Troy adds, uncertain as to his son’s motives.

And he has every reason to be, really, because it’s not like his son ever visits him, like he has shown any interest in him since the start. It’s not Louis' trying to be mean, he isn’t, but it simply feels awkward for Louis to suddenly come to this smaller town and live near his father who left him when he was little and has never seen, even more so to talk to him as if he hadn’t abandoned Louis when he was a baby.

But that’s not what he came here to talk about, doesn’t feel ready to in all honesty, so he nods and follows Troy into the kitchen, which is very white and suburban of him. It makes Louis feel strangely comfortable.

Louis sits down on a stool and faces his father who puts a kettle over the fire. He breathes in deeply before swinging around back and forth, clearly stalling the talk, and his father notices.

“Is there anything wrong?” Troy asks, leaning over the counter to fetch some tea and looking at his son over his shoulder questioningly. A beat goes by, expectantly silent.

“Why do I fuck everything up?” Louis exclaims suddenly, slumping on his seat, as if he has pondered over the issue for a long time, and he has, ever since he texted Harry four times in a row and saw the boy open each one but never reply.

“You don’t  ''fuck things up" Louis, you make mistakes like the rest of us, and it’s okay.” his father replies calmly and it sounds rehearsed, a conversation his father was just waiting to have with him but never had the chance up to now. “Now do you want to tell me what this mistake was, and also how you take your tea because I have absolutely no clue?” Troy adds, gesturing to the cups and smiling warmly at Louis. He prepares the tea as instructed and leans on the counter, paying attention to whatever Louis says next.

“Well it basically went downhill when at the radio station I was paired up with this really nice guy, curly hair, amazing green eyes and dubious music taste but this incredible laugh--” Louis cuts himself off there, blushing faintly because oh god was he just about to gush about Harry to his father? He clears his throat awkwardly and continues, “But anyways he was a part of an acapella group…”

And so he tells the whole story, leaving out how he almost kissed--and dry humped--Harry twice, but including every detail of his mistakes and how he doesn’t know how to fix it now.

When he finishes Troy sighs and sets his cup down. “It sounds like you really care about all of them Louis and it seems that you thought too much about the result of going to London and then forgot to have fun and be yourself. And when you had to face what you’d done you ran because it was easier.” his father says, and Louis knows he’s right, feels every word ring true on his mind. It surprises him how much he appreciates the understanding Troy’s giving him, even if it’s in his professor kind of way.

He’s not even thinking about London even, hasn’t thought about it in a while. Louis’s lessons entertain him, and the idea of having a title has been gaining allure. He still likes his mixes, but he doesn’t mind waiting and getting a degree if he gets to do it next to the people who he’s grown to care about, if they let him. If Harry lets him.

“What do I do now then?” He asks, looking for a clue on how to start fixing the problem, because he’s the cause and has no idea how to fix himself.

“You say sorry Lou, like you’ve always done when you were wrong, because that doesn’t change.” Troy replies, wisdom pouring out from him by the liter it seems. Louis thinks he should keep some since he’s always low on it.

He nods and hops off the bench, having fulfilled his purpose and reluctant to stay any longer in fear of things turning awkward. And maybe one day they won’t be--this feels like a step towards it already--but for now, this sympathy and advice is all he asked of his father. He’s got to think now, to send Harry a bunch of other texts and wait by his door, to go to the club and apologize, hope the next year they’ll pass and win, to make it good again.

When they’re at the door, his father leans down and hugs him loosely, but his voice comes clear through Louis’s mind. It’s cheesy and simple, but it makes Louis’s chest swell up the tiniest of bits, boosts his ego by necessary inches.

As he walks back to his dorm, he repeats the words on his mind.

“Go get them, Louis.”

***

Louis is sprawled out on his bed, laptop on his lap and light shining on his tired face. It’s a week before spring break ends and he’s bored, has gone over everything he should do and has no one to call, or not yet.

He’s not sure what he’s waiting for really, but he has no way to know when everybody will be back, and he feels like he should extend his apology to the entire group so it’s not the right time to go back; not yet.

He mindlessly scrolls through Tumblr as his ears are claimed by headphones playing the unfinished mix and, as he leans over to check the time on his phone, he notes the background he still has. It’s a picture of him and Harry at the concert, their faces silly as the band plays on the background.

Smiling softly, Louis recalls the moment he’d tugged on Harry’s sleeve and instructed him to pose, when he was so surprised at Harry pushing his cheek against his so close he could feel the dimple and how he had admired the few inches Harry had over him. He taps his password in and goes through the small amount of pictures he’d gathered that day, many of them quick snapshots of Harry doing something particularly silly-like posing with a monocle he found on the ground or looking sadly at the beer stain on his shirt.

His heart tugs at each of them, and then he reaches the last item, which is a video. He doesn’t recall recording one that night, but when he taps play, it’s an out of focus, shaky one.

It shows Harry and him, dancing stupidly to the music in the background, followed by some attempted shots at the stage. Louis can clearly see his smile and Harry’s matching one as the song builds up, notices the hug they share before continuing dancing.

Then, as the shot goes dark for several moments, he truly notices the music. It’s one of the band’s original songs, and he faintly remembers it, but as the unfinished mix plays through his headphones and the admittedly crowd polluted track plays from his phone, he realizes; that’s it.

That song, that soft rock sound was just what his mix was missing. It both compliments the soft notes and the rockier sounds, and it fills the void in between.

Grinning madly, Louis opens a new tab on his computer and searches the band’s name, downloading the full album seconds later, a thing he’d intended to do after the concert but had forgotten about until today.  He patiently waits until it’s done and then clicks on the first track, promptly passing from one to the other until he finds the one he was looking for, rediscovering some songs he’d liked that day with Harry as well on the way.

An hour later, Louis is leaning back and smiling proudly as the finished mix comes out his headphones. He can’t help but think of Harry every time he hits replay though, and an overwhelming desire to show it to the boy, to have him know he remembers invades his mind. He wants to erase everything and simply go back to that night and kiss him instead, sending off a big ''fuck you'’ to the rules and avoiding the sectionals incident, one he has yet to get over with.

Louis’ phones vibrates next to him, and when he reads the text from Zayn, his eyes widen and body moves so fast, his headphones get caught forcibly pushing him back into sitting. He scans over the words again to make sure he’s read it right before he drops it to make what’s most likely the silliest happy face in history and pumping his fist into the air, just because he can. The text is still displayed on the screen as he shakes on his seat.

‘Leeds group disqualified, practice room tomorrow at 5, don’t fuck this up’

***

As Louis rounds the corner and comes to the hallway containing the rehearsal room door, he notices that he’s as nervous as he’d been at auditions.

His heart beats fast and his palms are so sweaty, his jeans are permanent hand towels, but he’s too focused on the task at hand to be repulsed by himself. And it shouldn’t be this hard to admit he was wrong and apologize, but the thing is, he doesn’t want only that. Louis wants to get the group of friends he made, to laugh with Niall again and develop mischievous plans with Zayn. He wants to come every day and sing songs he didn’t think he’d ever sing, to dance choreographies and get lost because he was staring at Harry or trying to make his ass look good.

If he accomplishes all that and the heavens are still smiling at him, he’d like to have Harry back as well. He really misses him, and if he’s already taking a chance with coming in the first place, then he’ll go full out because why not? The worst that can happen is nothing changing, and the best, well, it’s having Harry how he wants him, as his boyfriend, and that makes the nerve wracking moments that are to come, worth it; even if it’s just for a chance.

He has what he has dubbed as their song in a mix and a very heartwarming speech--if he can say so-- prepared, so the only thing he needs is the courage to actually go in. But as he nears the door he can hear a discussion going on inside.

“Come on Zayn you’re not even trying!” comes the voice of Liam, quickly followed by a retort from Zayn. “I am trying but I can’t get it right.”

Louis listens from outside as Liam shouts, “Well you need to." which awakens a boom of complains from what Louis distinguishes is Zayn and Niall, probably Anthony too. He can make out harsh calls to Liam’s behavior as the noise gets louder and louder, more members voicing out and already speaking ones raising their voices. When he can no longer hear anything but shouts, he decides to open the door and walk in.

Inside he finds Liam and Zayn too close not to insinuate an incoming fight, and similar scenes are going on around the room. He barely recognizes his own group. When Louis sees some kid about to push Niall and he snaps.

“Guys stop, stop what is going on?” he exclaims, louder than the rest. All pairs of eyes snap up to stare at him.

Liam looks up at the sound as well, and shuts off his complaints abruptly.

Everyone else in the room makes silence as well, and the air is tense with expectancy. Liam stares at him, surprised in ways that are surely not pleasant.

“Nothing, this is a Toners rehearsal and it’s just for members.” He replies, crossing his arms and becoming much more intimidating that what Louis expected. He won’t back down, though, so he breathes in since it seems it’s time for his apology.

“I know; I just wanted to say sorry for what I did at sectionals. It was a really dick move on my part and it wasn’t fair for any of you and I let you down and I feel really bad about it.” Louis says, eyeing the group that has settled behind Liam. He has something else he wishes to say, but it seems stuck on his throat.

He doesn’t get any reply for what he said, and as his eyes land on Harry, he notices the boy has an expectant look on his face from where he stands at the middle of the formed group. Louis’s blue finds green briefly for the first time in over a month and it gives him the extra push he needs.

“If you allow me Liam, I want back in, because I miss you guys and I really want to go to the finals with you.” Louis adds, breathing out nervously as he waits for an answer. It doesn’t come as he thought it would.

Slowly, he nods and turns around, ready to walk back to his room and let the sadness flood him. Louis takes a step and then the next, defeated and with his eyes trained on the hardwood floor. He had really thought it would go better than this.

“Wait.” comes the voice of Liam as he’s about to take another step, relief washing trough Louis as he turns around questioningly. Walking out after saying sorry would’ve been one of the most embarrassing things, and not making things right with the group something he would’ve regretted strongly.

Liam sighs and runs a hand through his hair as Louis steps closer. The rest of the members remain silent but stare at Liam with questions displayed all over their faces.

“I know I was hard on you Louis, I know I was hard on everyone here, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to lead any other way but this one.” Liam says, and Louis’ mouth falls open in surprise. He never thought Liam even had it in him to apologize, but then again, he never thought much of Liam besides how mean he was. It’s the first error in the chain, he guesses.

“And I don’t even want to be the leader, I just am because I was the only one left when people graduated and I followed the steps of my own leader because I had no idea what I was doing. Still don’t.” Liam goes on, and the group parts to let him sit down. He puts his head on his hands and slumps down.

It’s the smallest and least intimidating Liam has ever been and no one knows how to react.

“I just want to sing and have fun again.” he says, and Louis frowns as that. It’s a simple request, but the air is so tense it sounds like a deep confession.

“We all do Liam,” Louis starts tentatively, encouraged by the way some boys nod in agreement. “And I think that we can work with that and still be good and smash nationals, right guys?” He adds, voice growing stronger.

A chorus of "yeahs" follows the statement and Liam looks up with a glint on his eye, one Louis has never seen before.

“You don’t hate me?” Liam asks, voice pained and Louis laughs softly before he shakes his head in time with the others. Liam visibly perks up at that.

Louis lets the moment go on a bit more before he claps his hands and stares at the wondering group of young men he’s grown fond of.

“Well now that that’s cleared, let’s get to work you lazy suckers!” He exclaims, holding a hand out to Liam, who smiles and takes it.

***

The rest of the rehearsal is spent deciding what to do next.

Liam admits that the songs aren’t going to take them anywhere and Louis shyly proposes doing a mix of songs that sounds spontaneous like at riff off.

Everyone seems delighted by the idea, and he spends the next hour trying out different compilations of vocals, having Zayn on the high notes and Liam doing an accidentally discovered beat box that sounds incredible. He puts Harry on the gravelly notes, getting shivers several times, and Niall on the playful melody. Nobody mentions how he seems to be the leader now, so he doesn’t think about it much.

They sound good, but not nationals good, so he calls off the rehearsal and smiles as he watches every boy walk out with the biggest grin he’s ever seen on their faces. Louis himself hangs back at the rehearsal room brainstorming new ideas and idly wondering when he’ll say something to Harry.

He hasn’t yet because he figures it should be somewhat private and it seems unprofessional to do it at rehearsals or something. Louis lets his mind wonder about curls and green eyes as he searches his rucksack for his precious pendrive, giving a small sound of triumph when he finds it.

Reaching for the sound system he plugs it in and goes directly to the mix including Harry’s song, that one being his favourite. The sound starts coming out strong and he bops his head to it as it builds.

“What’s that?” comes a startled voice, and Louis takes a second to calm his palpitating heart before he straightens up and realizes it’s Harry’s.

The boy is picking up a bag that he seems to have forgotten, slinging it around his shoulder with ease.

“Just a mix I made.” he says, trying to sound relaxed as his insides churn. The song is seconds away from morphing into Harry’s song, and Louis is afraid of what reaction the boy will have; panicked more so.

Harry nods just as it changes, and his face scrunches up in confusion as it progresses. He lifts his hand up and points to the vague direction of the stereo, voice laced with doubt. “Is that The Cab?” he asks, and Louis nods shyly.

“Yeah, I really liked them.” he says, and he wishes he were saying something else that didn’t involve music. Something along the lines of "I’m an idiot please don’t go" but Harry’s falling silent so it doesn’t seem he’ll be getting any help from that side in begging for forgiveness.

They stare at each other as the music continues to blast from the speakers, Harry casting his daze down and playing with his sneakers. Neither of them talk, but Harry glances up to find blue eyes on his several times, only to duck his head down again.

Louis decides that they’re being stupid because Harry is far when he could be near, and that is almost a crime most probably. He sighs and looks up, making Harry imitate him.

“Look this is stupid Haz,” Louis says, taking a step towards the other boy. “I was an idiot and I’m really, really sorry I didn’t make it better right away but I called and you didn’t answer and I missed you okay? A lot, and you didn’t show up anywhere and I can’t be like this with you anymore because it makes me sad and I like you and this is stupid.” he continues, watching with amusement as Harry’s face breaks into a small smile.

“You already said that.” Harry remarks, and Louis can’t hold back the eye roll at that.

He has taken several steps, and he’s close to Harry now, so close that if he were to go on his tiptoes and lean in, they’d be kissing.

He really likes the idea.

“I’m gonna kiss you now okay?” He asks, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s face and searching green for refusal.

“Okay.” Harry breathes out, and Louis doesn’t waste any time in pulling their lips together.

The music blares on, but Louis loses track of it as Harry’s hands go to his waist and he’s being pulled closer until there’s no more space and he’s finally at the place he belongs in.

***

“Fuck Harry." Louis whines as Harry’s hands cup his ass to hold the boy up against the wall. The large hands knead the skin there, and the fact that they cover all of it is enough to melt Louis into the ground.

They’ve already messed up their outfits, but as Harry desperately kisses Louis, it gets lost in the ambience.

Peppering kisses all long his jawline, Harry tilts his head down and harshly sucks a love bite on Louis’s shoulder, the older boy grasping at Harry’s curls and shutting his eyes at the sensation.

Louis can feel himself getting hard, and as he’s about to position his hips against Harry’s to get some relief, Niall comes bursting through the door.

“What the hell are you doing we have the performance in five!” He exclaims, eyes disapproving as he takes in the debauched Louis and smug Harry.

The younger boy puts Louis down and steps back reluctantly, eyeing his work with a smirk. Louis’s white shirt is askew and deep bruises are blooming up over his exposed collarbones. His hair is wild and lips raw and red from kissing and he knows that his hard on is slightly noticeable.

Then he notices the look on Niall’s face and motions for Harry to see that too, chucking. They then straighten up and follow the blonde who seems to be muttering something about rabbits.

Reaching the side of the stage after microphones are spread around, they all gather around in a circle, from Zayn to Liam to Niall and the rest, a blur of harmonizing colour.

Louis takes in the various faces of his companions, noticing how each mirrors the determination set on his own. They’re here to have fun and win nationals, and as they enter the stage under the hot lights, he reckons it feels as right as something will ever be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have the time, feedback would be great here or at my [ tumblr](http://sleepycurls.tumblr.com/) :D Thanks for reading!


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